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Dandelion's Viper
墨書 Inktalez
Walking down the corridor, which felt as if it were covered in ice, each step echoed clearly in the nearly silent space, creating a chilling reverberation that seemed to whisper like an invisible ghost.
The ballast continued to emit a sharp, screeching sound, while the fluorescent lights flickered erratically, as if they might extinguish at any moment. The flashing shadows danced on the walls, forming eerie patches of light.
I couldn't help but shiver, a cold current coursing through me, making me tremble involuntarily.
This cursed weather was deadly cold. I instinctively shrank my neck and clutched the collar of my coat tightly, wrapping it around myself in an effort to fend off the bone-deep chill, but the cold still seeped through in thin threads.
At this time of night, I was expected to do rounds. Being a doctor was truly a tough job, especially in this place called Dandelion Hospital, a Mental Health Specialty Treatment Center. I couldn't help but pout slightly, my brows furrowing as my face displayed reluctance.
It was frustrating to think about; at this late hour, all the patients had taken their sleeping pills and were surely deep in slumber, like still pools of water without a ripple.
Was it really necessary to do rounds? I complained silently in my mind, my steps becoming sluggish and slow. But rules were rules—cold and hard like the steel and concrete of this hospital. What could I do? I could only comply silently.
I wearily turned around once, finding the surroundings as quiet as a graveyard, with no signs of anything unusual—truly peaceful.
Dragging my exhausted body back to the doctor's duty room, I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that perhaps I could finally take a break.
But between wishes and reality lay an insurmountable chasm filled with that frustrating gap.
Just then, the phone in the duty room rang out like a sharp sword, cutting through the silence with an eerie shrillness.
I hurried over and picked up the receiver. The unmistakable voice of the Bald Director came through with rapid-fire urgency.
He quickly informed me that a twenty-three-year-old female patient was about to be brought in and emphasized that I should find a single room because this female patient was extremely dangerous!
I paused for a moment, then let a slight smirk curve my lips—a teasing smile. My throat rolled as I swallowed hard, curiosity bubbling up inside me.
In this Dandelion Hospital, we had never received such a young female patient before; I wondered if she was pretty or not.
Extremely dangerous? I chuckled to myself; once admitted to this hospital, how many patients weren't dangerous?
I quickly prepared everything and returned to the duty room.
The duty room's window faced the elevator doors, which were of the oldest design, bearing deep scars from the passage of time. The doors had been repainted countless times, a rich green that, after staring at it for too long, made one's eyelids feel heavy, as if that color would seep out and stain everything around it with a nauseating hue.
With a loud clang, the elevator slowly ascended to the fourth floor where I was. The sound echoed in the silent corridor like the dull roar of some great beast.
The doors creaked open, resembling the sinister mouth of a devil, gradually widening to reveal a dark space within, as if it intended to swallow everything whole.
I looked up to see four burly, muscular orderlies with serious expressions carefully pulling out a stretcher from the elevator.
The stretcher seemed to carry some unknown danger, their footsteps heavy and cautious. I hurried forward, slightly turning to the side and gesturing for them to enter, leading them into the Single Patient Room I had prepared in advance.
As I walked, I couldn't help but wonder about this special patient. When Bald Director called earlier, his tense tone repeatedly emphasized that this young Female Patient would be extremely dangerous and insisted on arranging a private room.
What kind of special patient could she be?
With curiosity filling my mind, I unconsciously slowed my pace and turned to look at this Female Patient.
At that moment, I found myself holding my breath.
She was stunning! A breathtaking beauty, like the brightest star in the night sky suddenly falling into this cold hospital.
Due to having received a Sedative, she was deep in slumber, her complexion pale as if covered by snow—so white it was almost translucent, as if she would shatter with a gentle touch.
Her slightly disheveled hair fell casually across her forehead like black satin, perfectly obscuring her eyes and adding an air of mystery about her.
Her nostrils flared slightly as she breathed softly and evenly; everything around her seemed to freeze in stillness because of her presence. My heartbeat felt as if it had stopped at that moment; time seemed to stand still.
Such a beautiful woman—how could she possibly be a mental patient?
I couldn't help but sigh inwardly; this world is truly unfair! Why do they still call her the most dangerous patient? A heavy question floated up in my heart, like a weighty stone pressing down on me.
I didn't understand why, but when I first laid eyes on her, an inexplicable urge to protect her surged from the depths of my heart. It felt like spring bamboo shoots breaking through the earth, rapidly spreading within me, leaving me somewhat at a loss.
Just as I was lost in these thoughts, perhaps the effects of the sedative were gradually wearing off, and the beautiful female patient suddenly began to struggle lightly.
However, her limbs were already tightly secured to the stretcher by sturdy steel restraints. She couldn't move at all and could only futilely twist her slender body, like a beautiful butterfly trapped in a cage, desperately trying to escape but unable to do so.
I found myself unconsciously moving closer to her side, bending slightly at the waist with a gentle smile on my face. I softly said to her, "Miss, this is a hospital. You can rest assured that the doctors here will take good care of you. Please don't be nervous." I tried to make my voice soft and soothing, like a spring breeze attempting to dispel her unease.
She slowly opened her eyes, which were as deep as a tranquil lake yet held a hint of coldness. She stared intently at me, her gaze filled with an indescribable complexity of emotions.
From her eyes, I sensed a trace of resentment, like a venomous snake lurking in the shadows, flicking its icy tongue. More than that, there was an overwhelming sense of confusion, akin to a solitary boat lost in thick fog, unable to find its way.
A flicker of light danced in her gaze; she seemed to be in a dream—or perhaps the sedative was still exerting its faint influence.
She merely glanced at me briefly before slowly closing her eyes again, drifting back into sleep. Yet that mournful look in her eyes was like a sharp chisel deeply etched into my mind, making it impossible for me to forget—like an inescapable nightmare.
As the nurse pushed the stretcher away slowly, I instinctively reached out and gently flipped over her name tag. It clearly displayed her name: Liu Yan!
Those two characters seemed to possess some kind of magic, shimmering continuously before my eyes.
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